


spring cleaning for skeletons

by airdeari



Series: self-indulgent aoilight within [4]
Category: Zero Escape (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, this is like the day after emergency light just fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10463520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airdeari/pseuds/airdeari
Summary: There comes a point in every budding relationship where two enamored young lovers find themselves running out of things to talk about with one another. In the beginning, varied conversation flowed freely, almost too quickly to keep track of, a sign of the chemistry between them. But the number of shared interests between two people is always finite. Eventually the words die out, and, unfortunately, so does the excitement.For Aoi and Light, whose only common ground was shared traumatic memories, this point occurred about eleven hours after their first kiss.





	

**Author's Note:**

> happy nonary games everyone!!
> 
> (*blows kiss to snow* sorry ur game hates you, please take this silly fic as a token of my condolences)

There comes a point in every budding relationship where two enamored young lovers find themselves running out of things to talk about with one another. In the beginning, varied conversation flowed freely, almost too quickly to keep track of, a sign of the chemistry between them. But the number of shared interests between two people is always finite. Eventually the words die out, and, unfortunately, so does the excitement.

For Aoi and Light, whose only common ground was shared traumatic memories, this point occurred about eleven hours after their first kiss.

When Clover woke up around noon after their tiresome adventures of last night, her bubbly babbling saved them from silence. She took all of the sound in the apartment with her as she exited to attend to her shift at the café. The uncertain couple filled the space between them with the braille book in Light’s lap and the phone in Aoi’s hand.

The book was giving a rather dull exposition of a female character awkwardly inserted as a heterosexual love interest for an unappealing protagonist, despite the outstanding chemistry between him and his new male coworker from the previous chapter. Aoi’s phone had thirteen percent of its charge remaining, all of his social media feeds were running relatively dry, and Akane had signed off ten minutes ago telling him she was going to take a nap. Her “naps” tended to last several hours.

Aoi saw when Light’s fingers slowed and stopped on his page, but kept staring at his phone and scrolling aimlessly to pretend he had not noticed. Each of them was ordinarily happy, and even accustomed, to quietly exist in the same space as someone else, but there was something tense and loud about this silence that begged to be broken.

“Would you indulge me in a bit of a juvenile game?” Light asked softly.

“Probably not,” Aoi mumbled back.

“Come now, I played _your_ game, didn’t I?”

When Light heard Aoi’s sharp breath, he clamped his mouth shut and lost his smile.

“Whaddya want,” Aoi growled.

Light settled his fingertips back into the letters, lowering his head. “It wasn’t my intention to guilt you into anything.”

“Jesus, just tell me what you were gonna ask so I can say no to it.”

Light sighed and tipped his head back. “I only ask because I feel as though I know so little about you,” he said first. “As much as I _do_ know… you tend to guard your inner self a bit, I feel.”

“This coming from _you_ is rich,” Aoi retorted.

“Yes, of course, I’m aware that I have the same problem,” Light replied, “so I propose an incredibly silly game.”

He snapped his book shut only to remember he had not inserted a bookmark, only to decide that the book was likely not worth finishing anyway.

“We’ll take turns asking each other questions, one question at a time,” Light said. “No questions are off-limits, although you can refuse to answer if it’s _too_ uncomfortable. A game of truth or dare, without the dares.”

“So… nothin’ like truth or dare.”

Light smirked. “Did you also always choose dares in childhood to avoid talking about your past?”

“Alright, what’s _really_ depressing is, that’s a depressing as _fuck_ thing to say, and my answer is even _more_ depressing,” Aoi said, “because I never played truth or dare, because I didn’t have time to hang out and have friends.”

Light heard the smile in Aoi’s voice and gave a chuckle to keep the mood. His heart hurt.

“Who goes first?” Aoi asked.

And just like that, his heart was light and pattering again. “By all means, go ahead,” he replied.

“Okay, why do you close your eyes all the time?”

The question sent Light on a short face journey as he pondered the question itself coupled with the confident way Aoi had asked it, as if he had been waiting for a chance to ask this all his life.

“They don’t do me much good while they’re open,” he responded, his voice quiet out of mild bewilderment.

“Yeah, but most blind people keep their eyes open anyway, right? Even if they’re totally in the dark like you, can’t see a damn thing,” Aoi said. “It’s just natural to keep your eyes open, even if you can’t see. You’re specifically choosin’ to close ’em all the time.”

“It makes people uneasy when someone fails to make eye contact with you,” Light said.

“You’re failin’ pretty spectacularly, buddy.”

Light sighed. He could barely feel it when he lifted his eyelids, except by the strain around his eyes when he had opened them too wide. He blinked twice to bring them to a natural height, then turned his head in Aoi’s direction, trying to point himself exactly at Aoi’s face.

“Like this,” he explained. “I’m sure I’m not quite meeting your eyes, but you know I’m trying to talk to you. It’s unsettling. It makes you feel as though you’re in the wrong place, or perhaps outside of your own body without realizing it.”

“That’s… really why you do that,” Aoi uttered. “You just… you give too many shits what people think.”

Light gave a nervous laugh and shut his eyes again, rubbing at them with his fingers. “Well, if that were the only issue, perhaps I would not have developed that habit,” he admitted. “I also have abnormally dry eyes, so it’s more comfortable to keep them closed for long periods of time. My tear ducts are damaged.”

“Shit, you mean from…”

Light gave a weak smile. “The accident, yes.”

“Hey, man, is—is there shit I shouldn’t talk about with that? Like…”

“Excuse me, but I don’t believe it’s your turn to ask a question.”

“Quit fuckin’ around, dude,” Aoi groaned. “This ain’t part of the game, I’m serious. Like—like I don’t talk about fire around Akane, shit like that. Is there…?”

Light paused, sighed, and responded, “Well, I found out relatively recently that I’m bothered by _extremely_ small enclosed spaces. About a year or two ago. I believe you were there.”

“Oh. Oh, _fuck_. Fuck, dude, I—it was—fuck, I didn’t—”

“Other than that, no, I don’t believe I have any triggers,” Light said cheerfully. “Shall I take my turn to ask a question, or would you like to tell me any of yours?”

“Light, God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

Aoi’s voice came closer. Light gave a twitch almost large enough to be called a flinch when he felt a warm hand touch his shoulder. He knew that Aoi’s compassion ran deep underneath those still waters, but he had never imagined that anybody but Akane would be a recipient of it, let alone himself.

“You couldn’t have done anything even if you had known,” Light said with a dry laugh. “I was destined to be trapped in that coffin. Would you rather have let your sister die than cause me a moment’s discomfort?”

Aoi drew his hand back and, by the sound of it, folded his arm across his chest. “I coulda tricked out the coffin, I dunno,” he grumbled. “Give it a false bottom so you had more room or some shit. Put you somewhere else a while before we transfer you to the coffin.”

“That would be impractical, infeasible, and overall ridiculous,” Light said. “Shall we get back to our game? I haven’t had the chance to ask you a single question.”

Aoi gave a disgruntled noise of reluctant acquiescence. Light heard him lift his glass of water off of the coaster on the coffee table.

“I must say, I was a little surprised you took it so seriously with your turn,” he said, somewhat to pad for time, and somewhat to soften the blow he wanted to deliver. “I did intend for this to be a juvenile game, after all. So, that said, how many boyfriends have you had?”

He heard the sound of sipping water interjected by a sudden slurping noise, followed by a pause, and then a dry cough. He had been hoping for a full-on spit take, but the fact that he had gotten any kind of choking reaction was still indescribably satisfying.

“Or girlfriends,” he added while Aoi cleared his throat. “Partners of any gender.”

“Well,” Aoi said in a ragged voice, “when you say ‘partners’…”

Light’s eyes shot open as his smile split into a hungry grin. “Oh, I meant _romantic_ partners,” he clarified, “but I’m now finding myself quite curious about your sexual experience.”

“Nope, you asked me about romantic stuff,” Aoi shot back. “Zero partners. Done.”

The grin faded, but the curious eyes stayed open. “You’ve _never_ been in a relationship before?”

“Ain’t your turn to ask a question, buddy.”

“That wasn’t an inquiry. It was a restatement of fact as a question out of sheer disbelief. I’m simply continuing the conversation.”

“Well then, yup, that’s right, you heard me,” Aoi retorted. “My turn now.”

“You’re delaying the inevitable.” Light sneered. “I’m going to ask you more about this on my next turn.”

“Next turn ain’t now,” Aoi retorted. “Here’s a goddamn question: how the hell do I touch you without makin’ you jump?”

Again, Light felt his face go through a series of contortions before it settled into something vaguely confused.

“It’s _every_ time, no matter what I do,” Aoi went on, sounding almost exasperated. “I mean—should I warn you? Like, ‘hey, I’m about to grab your shoulder real quick,’ then—”

Light still gave a twitch when he felt the warmth of Aoi’s hand settle into his arm.

“Jesus _Christ_ , you—” Aoi cut himself off with a groan and flopped back against the couch. “C’mon, is there a trick to this? You don’t do this with Clover.”

“Clover is my sister,” Light responded.

“Yeah, I know, but I—I wanna… I wanna be your boyfriend, or… or whatever.”

His voice dipped into something quiet and vulnerable that made Light’s heart start to race.

“What does it mean when your eyes do that? Are you fluttering your eyelashes at me?”

Light blinked. His eyelids had room to blink. He had not noticed them opening.

“It’s not your turn to ask a question,” he responded in weak, flat voice.

“Ask me to kiss you so you won’t flinch when I do it.”

The words knocked the air out of Light’s lungs, but he made it sound like a breathless laugh by turning his lips into a crooked smile. “Will you kiss me like you did last night?”

Aoi’s fingertips brushed lightly along Light’s jawline before his warm palm settled against his cheek. His hand tensed as he sank into Light’s lips with desperate passion. Light found Aoi’s shoulders, then slid his hands down and around his back until he hooked onto his hips, running his thumbs along the upper ridges. A delicate, high sound met Light’s lips, one that made a question jitter too violently in his heart for him to continue the kiss. He broke away with a giddy grin.

“Aoi, are you _vocal_ in bed?”

Aoi withdrew his hand from Light’s cheek so quickly it knocked his head around. “I—I’m—it’s not your turn to ask a question!” he stammered. “You asked me to kiss you, it’s _my_ turn!”

“But you asked me a question out of turn before that,” Light pointed out. “You asked me about my eyes.”

“You didn’t answer,” Aoi protested. “Doesn’t count. _My_ turn.”

“Well, you didn’t kiss me like you did last night,” Light sniffed. “You were much _gentler_ today.”

“I was thinkin’ the time we kissed in the car, not the time I fuckin’ mashed my face into your mouth.”

“I don’t know, you were much sloppier in the car,” Light teased.

“W-wait, what?”

He shrugged, waving his hand dismissively. “I think the hypovolemic shock was getting to you.”

“Shit, what the fuck did I—”

“Don’t worry about it, dear.” Light reached out at the expected height of Aoi’s shoulders and followed them up his neck to his face, where he leaned forward and laid a kiss on the cheek. “Shall I answer your question about my eyes opening when I’m taken by surprise so that we can get back to my turn?”

“Didn’t exactly give me a choice there.” Aoi slouched down, leaving Light’s touch. “You phrased it like a question, though, so that makes it my turn again.”

“Goodness, dear, do you have yet _another_ unusual personal question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

“I mean—I dunno, I still kinda wanna figure out this touch thing,” he mumbled. “Just lemme go down this rabbit hole and rack up a question tab or whatever, and you can ask me however many questions I did after I’m done.”

“Aoi, this is dangerous,” Light warned. “I am a very patient man, and I will absolutely keep track of how many questions you ask and exact my revenge accordingly.”

“Alright, alright, whatever. So what do I do to get you to stop jumpin’ when I touch you?”

Light chuckled and shifted his weight a little closer to Aoi. “Trial and error,” he replied. “Perhaps I’ll grow accustomed to it by familiarity.”

“It—it doesn’t bother you?” he asked softly.

“No, Aoi Kurashiki, it may surprise me,” he said on a lilting sigh, “but it does not bother me in the least when I feel you touching me.”

Aoi moved so cautiously that Light felt his warmth against his arm before he felt the touch and the weight of the young man leaning against his side. His hand trailed down Light’s forearm, touching him only with his knuckles, until their hands met. Their fingers slowly entwined.

“I’ve seen Clover do that,” Aoi muttered. “She won’t grab your hand. She’ll kinda run down your arm if she wants your hand.”

“Does she,” Light said absently, melting into the enticing heat of Aoi’s palm.

“Wait, you never—no, c’mon, there’s gotta be a trick to this, right?” Aoi gave Light’s hand a slight squeeze as he groaned. “Is it better if I touch you lighter at first? Or should I just go for it like normal?”

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned about this, Aoi,” Light said with a gentle laugh. “Please, touch me any way you’d like, as much as you like.”

“Oh, _shut_ it.”

“Apologies. You didn’t get flustered the last time I told you I like when you touch me. I had to try harder.”

“Look, you promise it doesn’t bother you?”

“I do.”

“Tell me if it does bother you, okay?”

“Aoi, if you keep phrasing everything you say to me as a question, you’re going to be in for a world of hurt.”

Aoi gave a jolt that Light could feel against his arm. “You ain’t seriously counting, are you?”

“That last unnecessary question brings us to a deficit of _eight_.” Light gave a smug grin. “Of _course_ I’m counting, dear.”

“Look, this is a stupid game, anyway,” Aoi complained. “Just ask me whatever goddamn questions you want and we can have a conversation like normal fucking people.”

Light’s eyelids lifted as he rolled his eyes. “Fine, then,” he sighed, “do you regret bringing about another Nonary Game?”

Aoi’s hand went stiff against Light’s. Light’s hand went stiff, too. The echo of his question haunted the air.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he said softly. “That wasn’t a fair question. I’m sorry.”

“No, you know what ain’t fair? You had to be part of that shit again,” Aoi muttered. “You and Clover. That’s what ain’t fuckin’ fair. None of you deserved that. ’Specially not you two.”

“But I can’t ask you if you _regret_ it,” Light insisted. “That’s asking you to weigh the value of your sister’s life against the emotional wellbeing of five innocent people. I know what you’ll choose, but it’s not fair to frame it in black and white. I know you regret _how_ you had to save her life. I know you can’t regret saving her.”

“Can… can I ask one more question?” Aoi asked weakly.

Light took a moment to remember how to move his head to nod.

“Do you forgive us?”

Light pulled his hand out of Aoi’s uncertain grip. He slid it behind Aoi’s shoulders, and he moved his other arm to cross Aoi’s chest. Aoi curled into him as he pulled him closer.

“If I am ever bitter, it is never because of you,” he whispered. “I wish there had never been a second game, because I wish there had never been a _first_ game. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t think there’s anything to forgive you for.”

Aoi was quiet and still for a long time after that, but this time, the silence felt comfortable.

“Your turn to ask a question,” he finally said.

Light’s lips spread into a grin. “Number of sexual partners.”

“Asshole.”

“Come now, you knew it was coming. Or are you saying that’s your only sexual partner, your own—”

“Jesus _Christ_.”


End file.
